


Mind Me

by Magnetism_bind



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Humiliation, Object Insertion, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You turned Erik against me, you little telepath bitch, and now I'm going to teach you where your place is."</p><p>Badass though Charlotte no doubt would be, I get the impression Shaw is a traditionalist when it came to gender-roles and would have a lot less respect for Charles if he was a woman. And I have a huge humiliation kink, so... a twist on the usual Shaw-captures-Charles-to-piss-off-Erik trope, I'm looking for Shaw punishing Charlotte in front of Emma and Azazel for 'stealing' Erik's attention. Finger-fucking and object insertion would be incredible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 1stclass_kink over at Livejournal.

_She was such a pretty little thing_ , Shaw muses. It's hard to believe there's a brain under that wavy brown hair. The telepath is on her knees before him, arms cuffed behind her back. Helpless. She really is a lovely thing. Pretty, delicate little lips, cheeks that flushed so pleasingly when Shaw spoke. _And those breasts, perfection_. Shaw imagines releasing them, touching them, cupping their succulence. 

There's nothing to stop him. He glances at Emma mischievously. She looks bored from her place on the sofa. Azazel is watching intently from the bar, waiting for him to do something. 

“Put her in the chair.” Shaw orders, loosening his collar slightly. Azazel obeys, placing the telepath in the chair, tying her ankles to the legs, and her wrists to the arms. 

“Pour me a drink, sweetie.” Shaw asks and Emma gets to her feet. He goes back to studying the telepath. It'd taken careful planning, but they'd done it. With Emma distracting Xavier from sensing them, they'd managed to capture her. And then....Shaw smiles to himself. 

They'd fastened the cogs to her skull, behind her ears. You couldn't even tell they were there under all that hair. But Charlotte knew, oh yes. 

“What's it like, I wonder...” He's musing aloud this time, circling her with his drink. “To not be able to use your powers? Does it hurt? Does it frighten you?” He presses the whiskey glass against her cheek and she flinches from the cold. A drip from the sweating ice trickles down her cheek. 

“You are lovely, my dear.” Shaw says half to himself. “But I do wonder what Erik saw in you.”

Charlotte looks up at that automatically, and Shaw smiles triumphantly as he takes her chin in his hand, forcing her to keep looking at him. “So tell me, does it frighten you to know you are completely helpless?”

“Not particularly.” Charlotte says politely. She went to a very fine finishing school before Oxford, and she is always polite, no matter the situation. 

Shaw chuckles and takes a sip of whiskey. “A liar as well. Not surprising. I've never met a woman who didn't lie delightfully. Tell me, do you lie to Erik when he fucks you? Do you pretend he satisfies you when he falls apart in bed and can't get it up?”

Charlotte's jaw tightens; but she refuses to look anywhere but up at Shaw. He will never know how much he scares her, with what he's done to Erik in the past. What Shaw could do to him in the future... She has to be strong, so she is. 

“Pretty little Charlie.” Shaw tilts her chin up to look at her again. “Does he call you that? When he sinks down inside you, filling you up? My Charlie? Or is it always formal, yet passionate _Charlotte_ , my darling Charlotte, beautiful elegant Charlotte?” 

Charlotte pulls her jaw free. “Char, actually.” 

Shaw tilts his head to one side, considering this.

Emma yawns. “Lie.” She doesn't even look up from the magazine she has open across her lap. 

“You should know this,” Shaw smiles at Charlotte. “I very much dislike being lied to.” He backhands her across the face hard, hard enough for blood to trickle from the corner of her mouth. 

“I've changed my mind. I like her better on her knees.” Shaw goes to refill his glass while Azazel maneuvers Charlotte out of the chair. He takes a sip and sets the glass down. He's waited long enough. 

Shaw's cock stiffens as he looks at her kneeling before him. So perfect. Erik must dream about those delicate red lips. He unfastens his trousers slowly. 

“He would have joined me.” Shaw says conversationally. “Eventually. He would have joined me, if not for you.” He turns to study her... “Do you remind him of his mother? So quick to reassure him that everything will be all right?” 

There's humor reminiscing at the corner of Shaw's mouth, but Charlotte won't give him the satisfaction of asking about it. She licks her lips nervously. She has an idea, not a particularly pleasant one, of what Shaw will do to her. Yet she couldn't stop hoping that he would merely hold her as leverage against Erik. He still could of course, but this...this was worse than she had expected. 

Emma laughs softly from the other side of the room. “Honey, you have no idea.”

Shaw looks at her and then down at Charlotte. “What's she thinking?”

“She thinks this is a slumber party.” Emma says, with a sly smile.

Shaw chuckles. “Beg for it.”

“I beg your pardon?” Charlotte stares up at him incredulously.

“I want you to beg for my cock.” He enunciates every word. “Come on, you little bitch.”

Charlotte opens her mouth to protest. 

“Think of what I'll do to your little friends when I catch them,” Shaw muses. The blue one...I wonder how she'll look, with her lips wrapped around my cock.”

“All right.” Charlotte mutters.

He grips her neck hard. “I said I wanted you to beg.” 

“ _Please._ ” Charlotte looks up at him. “Please give me your cock.”

Shaw smiles. “All you had to do was ask. Open up.” He grips her hair tighter, pulling her head up. “Oh, and if you bite me, I will make you regret it.” His smile tells Charlotte that's completely true, so however unwillingly, she parts her lips. 

Shaw pushes in easily. By all that's holy, it's a goddamn shame she ever did anything else with her mouth. She should be kept on her knees all the time, mouth locked open. He pushes deeper, smiling as she tries to adjust around his cock, trying desperately not to choke. 

“This is where you belong.” He whispers to her and she flinches again, choking a little as she does. Shaw grips both sides of her head, running his thumbs carefully over the cog implants as he thrusts in and out of her sweetly luscious mouth. “On your knees, serving better men.” 

At that Charlotte tries to pull away, but he holds her there firmly, fucking her mouth until she's gasping for air. Tears are crawling down her cheeks, and Shaw can't resist. He presses his thumb to the corner of her eye, catching one and lifting it to taste it on his tongue. 

“Tears of a human girl. That's what you are now. A mere mortal.” He punctuates the words with sharp, violent thrusts. “Fit only for this.” He comes with a long sigh, shooting deep down Charlotte's throat. She has no choice, but to swallow. Shaw admires the motion of her throat, struggling to cope. The ripple of desperation is more than a little enticing. 

Shaw pulls out at last, letting his cock slide between her lips wetly. “Next time I'll come on your face.” He says this matter-of-factly. Might as well let her know what's in store. 

 

Charlotte composes herself, and looks up at him calmly. “The next time, I'll bite it off.” 

“She means it.” Emma observes. She's lowered the magazine and is leaning over the back of the sofa, watching. Her chin rests in the palm of her hand as she considers Charlotte carefully. 

“I wouldn't expect any less.” Shaw runs a hand through his hair. He feels exhilarated. The evening is young, and he has a mental to-do list of things he has yet to do to the pretty Miss Xavier. 

 

 

He returns to his whiskey and looks at Emma who's returned to her magazine. “Apologies if this bores you.” 

“Not at all.” Emma says without looking up. “It's just...”

“Yes?” Shaw takes a sip, waiting. 

“I think you could be more inventive.”

“Really?” 

Emma shrugs. “She's a telepath, you could,”

“Did I ask for your input?” Shaw inquires pleasantly.

Emma's lips tighten, but she shakes her head. She glances at her magazine.

“Inventive.” Shaw murmurs, taking another sip. He nods at Azazel. “Put her back in the chair.” 

He has an idea. 

Once she's secured again, Shaw drags another chair over and places it opposite her, two feet away. He sits back, at ease with the situation. “I've tasted your tears. Now I'll taste your cunt.”

Charlotte looks straight at him when he says that. Shaw waits for her to break, to cry or beg anything really, but the tears have dried upon her cheeks. She's calm and collected. Shaw will just have to do something about that. He leans forward to cup one of her breasts through her blouse. It's just as soft and perfect as he imagined, and he squeezes gently, relishing the feel of it under his hand. One by one, he undoes the buttons revealing her tasteful white bra. Shaw's finger trails along the fringe of lace, pulling it down to reveal her flushed nipple. Shaw smiles at the sight, and then simply snaps the bra apart, letting it fall open and there they are, two delicious mounds waiting to be teased and bitten and marked. He squeezes viciously this time, wanting to leave his mark upon that blank perfection. 

Charlotte bites down on her lip hard to keep from crying out. His fingers are digging viciously into her breast. She wants to pull away, but there's no way he's going to let it end here. 

Shaw gives her nipple a harsh twist and sits back. “There. That's better.” 

He's a little disappointed with her lack of response. Really, she was supposed to be cleverer that this. “Now.” Shaw takes a final sip of whiskey and sets it aside. “I hope you're wet enough by now.” 

“Hardly.” Charlotte murmurs. 

Shaw grins and slowly pulls her skirt up, revealing thighs just waiting to be pushed apart, and then, thin, silken underwear. He presses his thumb against the material, feeling her arch away from his hand as best as she can which is impossible. For a moment, he just rubs her clit through her panties, watching her reaction with a clinical air. 

When Shaw stops, there's a flush to her cheeks that is more than a little becoming. He tells her as much and lets Charlotte struggle with her futile anger as he reaches for her underwear. Shaw pulls her panties down slowly, reveling in the way the girl goes still under his touch. He leaves them at her thighs and returns to the delicate v of hair he's discovered between her legs. He runs a finger through it, teasingly, before easing his finger down to her cunt. Slowly, he circles her hole with his fingertip before returning to her clit. She tenses as Shaw strokes her leisurely, more slowly than before. 

“You like that, don't you?” Shaw's amused. 

Charlotte opens her mouth, but if Shaw's completely honest, he's tired of talking, even if she hasn't done that much so far. He nods at Azazel who steps forward with a gag. Shaw continues his ministrations as he fastens it. 

“There, that's better isn't it? As much as I'd like to hear you moan, a woman really should be silent when she doesn't have anything useful to say. Wouldn't you agree, Emma?”

“Mhmm.” The blonde is still watching though, studying Charlotte's face. 

Charlotte's breath is a little ragged now as Shaw returns to her hole. He eases the tip of his finger inside experimentally. She's a little wet, but not enough to make this anything less than pleasant. For her, at least. Ah, well. He glances at her. 

“You'd prefer to be top, I suppose.” He pushes further in, enjoying the way she squirms around his finger. “I bet Erik even likes it when you sit on his face and you know every last thing he's going to do with that tongue, before he even does it. I'll bet he just loves the way your pussy feels on his mouth.” He adds another finger, stretching her open. “Erik never did know how to act properly. He should have fucked you like a man.”

Charlotte has tried never to hate anyone. Not her parents, though they were sorely lacking in anything deserving love. Not the people who were so quick to fear mutants and their differences. Not anyone. But this man....she can't help the rage she feels as he invades her body. He's already imprisoned her powers. He's tried to take every last thing that's _hers_ from her. She wonders what Shaw will do when he realizes he'll never succeed at that.

“Where do you go to in that pretty little head of yours?” Shaw taps against her forehead with his unoccupied hand. “Do you imagine living in some paradises where humans accept you for who you are?” He curls his fingers and Charlotte is absurdly grateful for the gag as it smothers her half-moan. 

“Do you think he would settle down with you? Marry you? Make you the mother of his children?” Shaw snorts with laughter. He curls his fingers again teasingly and this time she can't hold back the moan that escapes her lips. “There. That's better.” She's so _tight_ around his fingers. Shaw can't help imagining how she would feel around his cock. Still plenty of time for that.

He picks up his whiskey glass and waves it at Emma. She gets up without a word to come collect it for a refill. While he's waiting, he sits back and admires the sight before him. Legs spread and open for him, breasts bare and waiting, the feel of his cock still on her lips, the taste of his come still on her lips. Shaw smiles and takes the whiskey without even glancing at Emma.

“What should I do to her next?” 

There's no response, except a flash of something in Charlotte's eyes. He'd like to work on that, taste the reactive spark, but first. “Anybody?” He looks at Azazel, who shrugs. He's content to watch for now. 

“Emma? Surely you have some ideas?”

“I thought you didn't want my input.” 

“I asked for suggestions.” Shaw says sarcastically. “I could just fuck her.” 

“Why don't you then?” Emma's fingertips are holding her place in the magazine. 

Shaw glances at her. “You were the one who said I should be more inventive.” And just like that he has an idea. He looks at Emma and she gets up without a word to go collect what he wants. 

He turns his attention back to Charlotte. “So tell me.” Shaw leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and locking his fingers together. “Does he ever fuck you with metal?” 

Charlotte's eyes widen just a fraction and Shaw knows he has her. “He has, hasn't he? How could he resist pushing something of _his_ inside your tight little hole?” He looks down at it with a smile. 

“You want to cross your legs, don't you? Hide that precious little cunt? I don't think so.” He thumbs her clit again, making her shudder, before dipping his forefinger inside her, up to the knuckle. 

He's fucking her slowly just with his forefinger when Emma finally returns. Shaw pinches Charlotte's inner thigh and goes over to see what she drummed up. Emma lays out an assortment of items on the pool table behind Charlotte's chair. 

Shaw inspects them critically. “This is the best you could find?”

“I could fetch the garden shears.”

Shaw sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “These will do.” There's a candlestick, a key, a piece of piping, and a lethal looking knife with a metal handle. As tempting as the knife is, the piping will do the job best. Shaw likes the feel of it in his hand. It fits nicely. He carries it back over the chair and sits. 

Charlotte stiffens at the sight of the piping. Shaw looks it at in the palm of his hand. “He could do this gently,” He mused. “He could make it an act of love.”

It rankles, despite his professional demeanor. The disappointment, the rage that still lingers. Shaw can't deny that. _Erik_ was meant to stand by his side, not Emma. Erik was meant to be here. Instead he has this, a pathetic piece of pussy, only good for fucking. It's her fault.

“You want this slicked?” He dangles the piping in front of her face. “Open up.”

When Charlotte doesn't move, Shaw loses his patience. He forces her jaw open, shoving the piping into her mouth. “Get it nice and wet, or this will be how I fuck you with it.” 

She does her best, but it's only spit on metal in the end. 

Shaw savors the way her face contorts as he inserts the piping inside her, one inch at a time. The way she clenches around it. “Maybe you were meant for metal.” 

He wonders if she's imagining Erik doing this to her, and twists the piping a little harder. He wonders if Erik has any idea of what's happening right now to his little mindreader. 

“But then how could he?” He chuckles patting Charlotte's cheek, “with your ability tucked away. He'll never know, unless we tell him where you are and what's been done.” He pushes the piping in and out, smiling at her. “I wonder...if we just returned you to him, would he smell the metal on you?”

He leaves it there, dangling out of her hole while he gets another drink. Vodka this time. It's been a long evening and it soothes the burn in his throat. 

There's something tugging at the pull of his memory. Something he should remember. Something...He snaps his fingers when it comes to him.

“Of course. Azazel, go to my study and fetch me the item in the glass case on my mantle.” 

The teleporter is gone and back in seconds. He hands the object to Shaw and returns to his place. 

Charlotte looks at him apprehensively. 

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Shaw holds it up, letting her see it. A smooth slim length of metal glistens in his hand. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten this. “This is very special. Aren't you going to ask why?”

“Why is it special?”

“It signifies one of my first achievements in the field of genetic experimentation.” Shaw admires it. “When Erik was a young boy, when I started training him...oh, the things he could do. They were marvelous. I had a Roman spearhead, and he crushed it down to this.” He shakes his head fondly in remembrance. “His power, even at that age, he was magnificent. It seems only fitting that I use this on you.”

Charlotte presses her lips together, not saying anything at all. 

The metal slides into her cool and oiled. This one's oiled at least. It presses deep inside her, filling her until Charlotte aches from the weight of it and all she wants is... Charlotte closes her eyes. Only for a second, but Shaw catches it. “You like that, don't you? Don't you?” He turns it inside her, eliciting a gasp. 

Charlotte doesn't look up. But it's true. Her body likes it. Her mind wants to pretend it's Erik. That the feel of this isn't Shaw's doing in any way. 

It's impossible. 

But she wants it. 

He pulls it out and rubs it teasingly over her clit, toying with her. “Tell me, Charlotte. Did you always like having things shoved up your pussy, or is it only due to Erik's involvement in your life?” He looks at her, legs splayed, cheeks flushed as he makes her wetter. “I think not. I think you've always liked it, like the little slut you are and Erik just happened to come along when you needed to move on to _harder_ things.”

He pushes it back inside her. Charlotte moans softly. She's aroused. She can't bear it, but she is. Despite everything, Shaw's already done, this...she wants to weep with the shame of it.

“She blushes very prettily.” Azazel observes from his spot at the bar.

“Doesn't she though?” 

Shaw alters the thrust of the metal so that the tip rubs across her clit as it slides in and out of her. Charlotte moans again, quietly, her cheeks are flushed with humiliation and arousal and Shaw likes it. He thinks she's perfect just like this. 

He makes her come at last with the tip pressed sharply to her clit. The dizzying heat pours over her, the _feel_ of it, the sensation washes through her body and she shudders as the metal continues to press against her, hot and unyielding. Her body's still shaking in endless waves when Shaw finally takes the metal away. 

“I have never seen you more perfect.” 

He pushes her to the floor, onto her stomach. “Hands and knees. Come on.” A slap to her ass gets motivated enough to move. Her thighs are still trembling,

Shaw slides his hands over her ass as he positions himself. He slips into her, so fucking easy, he wants to laugh. So he does.

“You're so goddamn wet from that piece of metal.” 

She's still tight enough to make it feel good, but there's no resistance. The metal's stripped it away. She's a boneless, yielding hole for him to fuck, and Shaw tells her so. Charlotte doesn't even flinch or try to escape at the words. This is how it should be. The only thing missing is Erik. 

“He should be here, watching.” Shaw leans over her back to whisper in her ear. “If I could do anything, I would let him see this. So he would see what you are, how you looked when you're fucked open and dripping. When you've begged for my cock until I give it to you. When you're begging for more.” He chuckles, kissing the back of her neck. “Then he'll see you for what you are.”

“And what's that?” Charlotte's voice is strained yet steady. He has to hand it to her. Even if he'll have to break her of it eventually. She has balls.

“A woman.” Shaw chuckles, thrusting deeper as he speeds up. Fucking her faster and harder until he comes at long last, slumping across her bare back, slick with sweat. He traces the curve of her spine and then pulls out with a sigh. Semen seeps slowly down her thighs. Shaw gets to his feet and walks around to stand in front of her. “Clean me off.”

Charlotte obeys silently. Tentatively, halting licks at first. He watches the motion of her tongue as she licks away. 

“Now there are two options. One, I could keep you.” He likes the idea. “You'd warm my bed, and bring me breakfast in the mornings. Or,” He pulls her up by the nape of her neck. “I could let Erik know....what you are, and see if he want any part of you now?”

Charlotte stares back at him, still defiant. 

“Well?” Shaw caresses her neck with his thumb. “Shall I tell him?”


End file.
